


Spider's Den

by LoathsomeSinner



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fatal Vore, Hard vore, Heavy gore, M/M, Non-sexual vore, Snuff, Vore, unwilling prey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-14 20:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16920186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoathsomeSinner/pseuds/LoathsomeSinner
Summary: A dumb dare turns bad, very bad.





	Spider's Den

The thing about these kinds of dares is that no one really _believes_ the place is haunted or whatever. You’re scared, of course, because some part of you can’t help but ask ‘what if?’ 

_What if_ the stories are real, _what if_ you never come back? But the point of going in was to prove that you could overcome that fear. And to a young man like himself that was incredibly important. He would lose the respect of all of his friends if he didn’t walk into that dingy old warehouse, covered half-way to hell in spiders webs. 

But that’s all there could be in there, of course. Spiders. And he couldn’t let the fact that they made his skin crawl show.

So at their goading he stepped towards the door. For a moment he was relieved as the handle stuck, if the door was locked he wouldn’t have to go in, he could even act disappointed but-

The handle turned, and the door fell open an inch or so. He couldn’t see anything inside but blackness, and he swallowed dryly. He hesitated, glancing back at his friends, who took the opportunity to tease him, clucking like chickens. His cheeks went hot, and his courage was bolstered by the temporary flash of anger at their antics. He pushed open the door, stepping into the building. His footsteps echoed through the room, and it was obvious by the sound that it was very big and very empty.

He heard muttering behind him, and turned just in time to see the door slam shut, leaving him in complete darkness. The sound of their laughter fading was enough to tell him that they were running away, leaving him there. Some friends they were.

And if they were leaving there was no sense him staying. No one to prove anything to if they weren’t even _there_ to see it. After a few moments of fumbling in the dark he found the handle. The frustration began to turn back into fear when it stuck again, and this time no amount of jostling seemed to be enough to free it. He cursed under his breath, then slammed against the door. He knew it wouldn’t do anything to help open it, it opened inward, but his ‘friends’ might hear him, if they weren’t too far away. He yelled out their names, then went quiet, listening hard in the vain hope that they would come back.

Silence.

He tried the door again, cursed, then turned to look around the dark room. Moonlight shone through the windows, letting him see some indistinct shapes in the darkness. Maybe it wasn’t as empty as he’d thought. But it looked like it was just crates and random piles of crap, from what he could see of the silhouettes.

He scanned the walls and his hopes rose when he saw something that could be another door. It might be locked, but it might not, and it was better than standing here hoping _this_ one would open. All he would have to do was cross this wide, dark, and creepy as hell room. No problem, right?

He took a deep breath, but he could feel his courage draining as he stood there, so he forced himself to take a step forward. Even trying to be quiet, his footsteps were loud enough to be jarring in this dark, silent room. The only other sound was his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He picked his way around the crates, moving as quickly as he dared. He knew the room was empty, it _had_ to be, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. Perhaps it was just the hundreds of spiders he was sure lived in this abandoned shithole.

The thought wasn’t comforting, and he tried to move a little faster. He cursed under his breath as a misplaced step connected his foot with a piece of metal, sending it skittering loudly across the floor. He paused until it stopped moving, and just as he began to move again he heard another sound. A low, soft slithering, almost like leaves blowing across the ground in the wind. 

He froze, turning his head slowly towards the sound. It was still impossible to see anything in detail, just indistinct patches that were a little darker than the background. So surely it was just his terrified imagination that insisted that one long shadow must be the leg of a spider poking out from behind some of the crates. It had to be his imagination, after all, the shadow was about as thick as his arm. Surely it was just a twisted up bit of metal.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from it, so he began to back up, slowly. It hardly mattered that he couldn’t see behind him, he could barely see _in front_ of him, either. Soon the patch of shadow faded into obscurity, and it allowed him to pull free of the terror it had struck in him. He even felt a little giddy as he moved away, able to laugh at himself for his fear. The door was closer now, and he felt some of his confidence return to his step.

He had no hope of seeing the thin piece of webbing that was laid across his path, and he gave a surprised yelp as it tripped him, sending him sprawling onto his face. He pulled himself onto his hands and knees, and found himself stumbling again as he tried to get to his feet.

His pants leg was caught in whatever had tripped him, and he tugged, swearing a little when the only result was the ripping sound of fabric.

He twisted, setting himself firmly on his ass to try and feel for whatever had him. His pants twisted around with him, turning it into a mess of which the cause was impossible to see. The webbing was far too thin to see in this darkness, but easily as strong as a tough piece of wire.

Another noise. The same slithering as before, and a short burst of insectile clicking. His heart jumped into his throat as he finally saw something move, and he could hear it shifting in the dark. 

No longer caring about whether his pants ripped he began to pull back, hearing the fabric tear and finally give. But he was only moving further into danger, and one of his arms touched against yet another of the webs. It stuck to his skin immediately, and he yanked back reflexively, tearing a small strip of skin where it had touched. He only felt a small flash of pain, the adrenaline pushing it from his mind immediately.

He pulled himself to his feet, backpedaling away from the approaching hulk of shadow heedlessly. It was only moments before he tripped again, but this time he didn’t make it to the ground. He cried out as he landed on the unyielding webs, the force of his fall and the thinness of the strands causing them to cut through his clothes and bite into his skin.

Just like that, he was trapped, unable to do anything more than wiggle when he struggled, and the adrenaline wasn’t enough to keep that from being anything but agonizing.

All he could do was scream as he watched the form grow closer. He could see that it had too many legs, far too many, and some of them were moving just like a spider. That much was horrifying enough, but what made it worse was the conflicting information of what looked like a human form crawling towards him, using it’s humanoid arms and legs just as much as the others.

He could see a mass of dark hair hanging from its head, and as it got closer he realized that it was framing a human face. Solid black eyes reflected moonlight, and he struggled again as he saw the sickening grin on the creature’s face.

His struggles only served to get him more entangled, keeping him firmly locked in place as the creature got closer. He could see now that whatever it was, it had the body of a human, but eight large and horrifying spider legs were sprouting from its back. 

He could only watch helplessly as the creature came closer, the spider legs finding those impossible to see webs with ease and climbing up them.

It might have had a human body, but when he saw the creature’s face reach level with his own, he knew there was nothing human in its mind. A clear liquid was dripping steadily from its lips and down its chin, not viscous enough to be saliva. It opened its mouth, revealing rows of sharp teeth. 

His screams stopped, his breath catching hard in his chest. Even if he could have moved he would have been paralyzed by the sight, and it didn’t break even as the creature moved, its hands going to his shirt and tearing it open. There was another burst of clicking, and he realized it was coming from the creature. 

His vision began to blur now, and warm tears trailed down his cheeks. He still couldn’t scream, could only give out a low, creaking groan as it leaned in towards him. 

It stung for only a moment as the teeth sank into his shoulder. Then an almost pleasant numbness began to spread. It tingled a little as it spread, moving slowly at first, traveling through his blood. He could tell the moment it hit his heart, because the spread practically exploded across his body. His head sagged forward, taking his view away from the creatures face and instead letting him see his own bare chest, and the creature’s body, so close and completely naked. It was male, but the thought was a passing one, and certainly not what he was focused on as he saw one of those long, bug-legs moving.

He saw the claw on the end of it, and the sight of it moving towards his exposed skin broke through the terror had kept him still. He tried to move, but the spreading numbness made his attempts even weaker before, and eventually it settled into a few, dull twitches. Whatever the creature had put in his system was making his body unresponsive as well as numb.

He gave one last, pathetic jerk as he saw the claw slip into his skin. All he felt was a slight tingle as it sank in, and it was surreal to watch as the claw dragged along his gut, splitting him open. There wasn’t nearly as much blood as he would have thought, and there was no pain. But he still _felt_ it, something moving along him, in him. 

The claw retreated, and the human hands took its place. They slipped into him, and he _felt_ that too, felt it as it rooted around, gripping something deep inside him that wasn’t supposed to be touched. Then the sensation of _pulling_ , and he wondered if he might not go insane before he died when he saw the hand dragging his guts from his still living body. 

He couldn’t even close his eyes, he was forced to watch as his guts were pulled up to the creature’s mouth. There was a strange, wet ripping sound and he knew it was eating him. It was followed by a low, human groan of satisfaction.

The sounds continued, and it seemed like hours passed as it chewed and chewed, pulling more and more of his intestine free of his body as it went. How could a single body even have so much? And how, _how_ was it that he could survive this long, that he could stay conscious?

He was surprised by an even stronger tug than before when he finally ran out, the other end attached to something unwilling to be dislodged. The trail of his intestine was dropped, slapping wetly back against him, and the hand slipped back into the gaping wound. His gut had sunk down, the flaps of skin that had once protected his insides resting upon nothing. 

There were more tugs, then the feeling of something being torn free of its position. He couldn’t tell which organ it was that the creature pulled out of him, and he didn’t care. He was beyond even the horror of what was happening, he just wished he would stop _experiencing_ it in such vivid detail.

There was no getting used to the sound of it eating, the mix of human and bug-like sounds it made as it enjoyed its meal. It wasn’t long before it went back, looking for the next tender morsel.

He was sure there was nothing left in his abdomen when the creature withdrew its hand empty, and that thought was confirmed by the return of the claw. It pressed against his sternum and ripped downward carelessly, tearing skin and clipping the lining of his stomach. It popped with an indescribable sensation, and the juices pooled down in his now empty cavity. It tingled there, and he supposed the acid was burning through him slowly. He only hoped he would be dead before it made its way through him.

The clawed legs dug into the line they had made, hooking around the bones of his ribcage. They strained for a few moments, and then with a crack his bones gave way. It did this a few times, until his chest was laid bare for the creature.

This was far messier than before, it seemed the taste of him had only whet its appetite rather than slowed it. There was more blood now, trickling down everywhere. And he finally noticed a blacking around the edges of his vision. 

He could see his heart beating, so slowly it was almost as if he were asleep. But this wasn’t a dream, much as he might wish it was. The creature reached for it, caressing it almost gently before taking it in its grip.

The last thing he saw, the last thing he _felt_ , was the creature wrenching his heart from his chest.


End file.
